Heart's Desire
by savinesnape
Summary: The war is over; against the odds Severus Snape survived. Hermione Granger has been in 'hiding' since restoring her parent's memories. The time has come for her to return home, but things have changed and not necessarily for the best.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

The witching hour was drawing nigh. Rain fell relentlessly from the jet-black sky as the tall, bald, black wizard paced pensively around his ornate desk, casting glances at the file that sat there. The walls were full of the portraits of preceding incumbents of the job; but Kingsley Shacklebolt, ex-Auror, ex-member of the Order of the Phoenix, disinclined Minister of Magic, had never felt more alone or more trapped. Before him lay the verbose proposal that Percy Weasley had handed him.

_"Minister," Percy said as he entered the office. "Bosworth has completed the proposal. I thought you might wish to take a look at it now."_

_"Thank you, Percy. Are you heading to the Burrow this evening?"_

_"I am, Minister."_

_"Could you extend my apologies to Molly? I think I ought to at least try to make a start on this." Kingsley lifted the sheaf of paper from the desk. "I need to have at least an idea of what we're facing before confronting the lions in their den tomorrow morning; too many of the Wizengamot back Bosworth's idea."_

_Percy smiled weakly at his boss; he knew that the knives were out for Kingsley._

Kingsley stared at the Arithmantic equations that swam before his eyes, slipping through his brain without leaving a hint of meaning behind them. He knew that, before he managed to comprehend what the equations meant, his Floo would be activated, and the tartan-bedecked headmistress of Hogwarts would be coming through to visit him. Percy would have cracked under her scrutiny in mere seconds. Minerva would use her Scottish brogue to lull Kingsley into a false sense of security before she unleashed her opinion upon him whether he desired her input or not. The more Kingsley stared at the parchment the more clearly he could see the faces of those who conspired to oust him. The War against Voldemort might have been over for a year, but there were still wounds that failed to heal. He had his fair share of detractors who said he was not up to the job, that he had no backbone.

He shook their images from his mind as he tried to concentrate on the figures at the back of the document. They didn't look good. Magical births were in decline, and inbreeding was on the rise as the eldest pure-blood families still refused to bow to changing times. Traditions, they believed, were just that, and to turn one's back on tradition was to forget everything that made British wizarding culture what it was.

He turned over another page of the proposal and groaned. Before him swam yet more equations. Rubbing his tired eyes with the heels of his palms, he rose from his chair. With two strides, he covered the space between his desk and the window. Beneath the magical window, the pavement was lit with a pale light from the faltering street lamp. Muggles, bedecked in mackintoshes and carrying umbrellas, were making their way home. Kingsley rested his forehead against the cool window. The decision to move the Minister's office away from the hustle and bustle of the main Ministry had been a godsend. He had spent too many years working in the shadows and underground. If he had to be Minister, then he had been determined to make some changes. Staring out into the night, he wondered how the Muggles managed their birth rates. Was it just the Wizarding population that was facing declining numbers?

Kingsley's pondering was interrupted by the activation of his Floo connection.

"Are you there, Kingsley?" The Scottish burr shattered the silence of his office.

"Minerva, yes, I'm here. Are you coming through?"

"That I am. You and I need to have a little chat."

Kingsley sighed and turned to the small table beside the window. Picking up the crystal decanter, he filled two tumblers with a generous measure of Ogden's finest liquor and returned to his seat.

Minerva stepped through the green flames of the Floo and dusted herself down before taking the seat on the other side of Kingsley's ornate oak desk.

"So, Kingsley, tell me that Percy has got this Marriage Law proposal wrapped round his scrawny little neck. Tell me you aren't considering Bosworth's proposal. The man is a short-sighted nigaud on the lookout for a young and nubile witch to wed."

With a heavy sigh, Kingsley pushed the paperwork across the expanse between them.

"Read it for yourself, Minerva. The numbers don't lie. As much as I am loath to admit it, Magical births are on the decline. If we don't act now... well, you can see for yourself the predictions at the back. They don't make comfortable reading. I'm sure Bosworth's numbers will be matched by the record at Hogwarts of magical births. The Wizengamot are suggesting that we pass a law that encourages more mixing between classes and blood-status. They are frightened that the pure-bloods will close ranks further, and we all know where that may lead us. I, for one, am war weary."

"Come now, Kingsley, you are no fool. A law born of this will not improve the birth rate. All this will achieve is to drive brilliant young minds away from their homeland. They will seek work within other Wizarding communities. My contacts tell me that Miss Granger, for example, is ready to return home. Do you really think that such a brilliant mind will be willing to come home to a law which will bind her to someone who may not have the ability to understand her?"

Kingsley sighed, resting his weary head upon his arms. He took a moment to compose himself before lifting his head, squaring his shoulders and looking straight at Minerva McGonagall, Headmistress of Hogwarts, Head of The Order of the Phoenix, Order of Merlin – First Class.

"My hands are tied. If I pass this, those I swore to protect will vilify me. If I reject these proposals, Lucius Malfoy will sweep into the fray and call for a vote of no confidence in my abilities to govern as Minister."

Kingsley watched as Minerva bristled in her chair; he knew that she'd never heard him sound so defeated. Even during the height of the war, he'd been determined to safeguard their way of life, no matter the individual's blood-status. To see him like this would be a shock.

"Now, you listen to me young man and you listen well to what I have to say," Minerva said. "You were born for this position. You excel in this position. You're a Slytherin for goodness sake, man! You can out-manoeuvre Lucius Malfoy if you desire. This is not you talking, Kingsley. You forget that I have witnessed you manipulate situations to suit you. Enough self-pity! Gird those loins of yours and face off your detractors. You can come up with a clause to dilute this idea."

Kingsley gave a sigh as he watch Minerva pace in front of his desk.

"There has to be a way to stall this law, Kingsley. I know you can find it," Minerva insisted as she took her seat once more.

_**oooOooo**_

Minerva stepped through the Floo and stared at the portraits around her office before sitting in the battered wing-back chair that stood beside the ornate fireplace. The leather was worn and faded, and the stuffing was escaping from small tears in the fabric, but she was loath to part with the chair. There were too many memories attached to it – too much history.

Resting her elbows on the arms of the chair, Minerva laid her head against her steepled fingers. For the first time since the last battle, Minerva felt despair wash over her, chilling her bones.

"I know you're not sleeping, Albus," she murmured as she looked across at the portrait of the former Headmaster.

Albus, feigning indifference to her tone, continued to softly snore. He would talk when he was ready and not before.

With a heavy sigh, Minerva rose from her chair and turned to face the small table upon which sat a cut-glass decanter of Firewhisky along with two matching tumblers. Pouring a generous nightcap, she returned to her battered sanctuary.

With a shuddering snore, Albus pretended to wake from his slumber.

"How was your evening, Minerva?"

"If you believe for one moment that I was going to fall for your feigned snoring, you have another thing coming. You were waiting for my return."

"What news do you have to share, then?"

"It's as we feared: Lucius is preparing to make a move. Kingsley is cornered by Bosworth's proposal. I fear that Miss Granger and others like her will fail to return home should Malfoy and Bosworth succeed with their plan."

"What about Severus? Will he be affected by the proposed decree?" Albus questioned.

"Severus is a broken man, Albus. Your memories may have saved him from Azkaban, but the lingering effects of Nagini's venom and the affect the delay in our retrieval has had on him mean that he still needs to reside here for the time being. Poppy refuses to allow him to leave the infirmary; she fears that he will have another blackout and that she will be unable to pull him back from the brink of the threatened depression." Minerva rose from her chair and began to pace. "He will be subject to the law just as surely as Miss Granger and her friends will be. I fear that he will leave us and seek refuge elsewhere. I know he has remained in touch with many of his fellow potioneers. We cannot afford to lose him, Albus. Who else has the knowledge, skill and ability to replace Horace? Who else can control a classroom as successfully as he can, instilling a healthy respect for the potential dangers associated with brewing?"

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore sat up straight in his chair. A twinkle glimmered in the corner of his eyes, as a small smile played across his dry lips.

"Then we have plans to formulate, Minerva. We cannot allow Miss Granger or Severus to fall foul of another Malfoy plot. Does Severus still hold a candle for Lily?"

"I'm not sure I'm going to like where you're planning to take this, Albus. Severus has been manipulated enough over the last twenty years."

"I always thought that Miss Granger and Lily Potter had a lot in common," Albus replied wistfully. "Miss Granger has a very... persuasive personality. I wonder if she would be able to challenge Severus enough to motivate him to heal."

"Albus," Minerva growled as she turned to face his portrait. "Miss Granger has her own wounds to heal. I'm not sure forcing her and Severus together would be a good idea."

"Nonsense. Miss Granger was far from lacking when she, Mr. Weasley and Mr. Potter were hunting the Horcruxes. She would be a good match for Severus."

Minerva stilled. Albus's idea was sound. However, it would take skill to entice Severus into accepting help from a former student. She would have to tread carefully when she broached the topic with him.

* * *

Nigaud – _nitwit, oaf, simpleton_.

This was written for Leni_Jess during the Summer 2010 SS-HG Exchange. Many thanks to my band of supportive alpha, beta and omega readers who helped make this story happen. Beffy, Scoffy, Dreamy, June, Subversa, Dynonugget and Tales of Snape, I couldn't have done this without your unfailing support, love and encouragement.

**Original Prompt: **Post-war, Severus rescues Hermione, possibly from some complication of the wizarding world that this Muggleborn hasn't cottoned on to yet [just, not how to fly]. And maybe she isn't all that grateful. How does he handle the realisation that he's free to develop attachment, and is attracted to her, and how does he cope with the need for courtship? (Yes, I'd like him to get there in the end.)


	2. Chapter One

_**Chapter One**_

_All night long, he had sat watching her sleep fitfully on the narrow bed. A single lantern, hanging from one of the low wooden beams of the cabin, illuminated her features. The soft light highlighted her chestnut hair, which cascaded across the pillow like water spilling over the edge of a cliff; her brow creased as she whispered a name._

_Every time the wind blasted against the cabin, she tossed onto one side, pulling the blanket tighter against her, seeking comfort and warmth. _

_As the wind stilled, she began to breathe evenly, then murmur from someplace deep inside a dream. Whether it was in pleasure or pain, Master Jin could not tell. _

_**oooOooo**_

Master Jin watched as Hermione slept on the narrow bed opposite him. She had come a long way in the year since he had first watched her sleep. He never mentioned the names she had muttered during the first few months of her stay. He knew, though, about her parents and the comrades who had fallen during the war. He knew that she dreamed of them.

_**oooOooo**_

Hermione stirred from her slumber. Stretching, she almost purred with contentment. She had slept well. She ran her hands across her face before sitting up and taking in her surroundings. Opposite, Master Jin snored softly. Hermione smiled as she watched the Potions master sleep. He reminded her of her former Potions master. His methods were similar to Snape's: he didn't suffer fools gladly. She'd been working with him for three weeks when the lack of sleep had caused her to make a very basic but explosive error. Master Jin's tongue was not as sharp as Snape's, but she had been put in her place and reminded that brewing even simple potions required her full concentration.

Glancing at her watch, Hermione rose from the narrow bed and crept across the cabin to the small table that served as a place to eat as well as a work bench. Carefully, she cleaned the worn surface before pouring the buttered tea from its cylinder into a small cooking pot. She carried the pot across to the dying embers of the open fire and secured it in place before preparing and relighting the fire beneath.

When she had first arrived in Tibet, she had found the brown concoction unpalatable, but Master Jin had instructed her to persevere, repeatedly informing her that the drink was as much a restorative draught as it was a thirst quencher. He had shown her how to make her own simple bowl from which to drink the buttered tea, and, as time passed, he'd also shown her how to prepare the drink.

She stirred the liquid in the pot as it warmed. Her mind drifted to the conversation she had shared with her instructor the evening before:

"_You have made excellent progress, lioness. It is time for you to return to those who love you. Your wounds are healing. There is very little I can teach you now; you need to find another to advance your training." _

"_Why must I return home? There is nothing for me to return to," Hermione replied petulantly. "My parents are happier in Australia than they were in England. No doubt Harry and Ron have moved forward without me. After all, the Minister himself made sure that they had places on the next Auror training course. People will have forgotten Hermione Granger, the brain behind the brawn of the Golden Trio." _

"_Nonsense," Master Jin chided her. "You must wonder what it's like now that the Dark Lord is no more. You have to face your fears, grab them by their horns and conquer them."_

"_But –?"_

"_There are no buts, Miss Granger. You have learnt all that I can teach you. You have the methods with which you can control your anger. Do your work with mastery. Like the moon, come out from behind the clouds! Shine. You have great promise, lioness. The journey of a thousand miles must begin with a single step."_

_Hermione sighed. Master Jin was right. The only way for her to move forward was for her to confront her remaining fears._

"_Come. All this talk will not cook the rice for supper, and you need to tend to the tea if we are to have any to drink tomorrow."_

As the soft early morning sunlight streamed through the window of the cabin, Hermione began to wonder about home. Was Hogwarts still her home?

_**oooOooo**_

Master Jin rose from his bed and watched as his apprentice prepared their morning tea. As he stroked his chin, his calloused fingers rasped against his stubble. The girl who had been a subdued mouse when she had arrived had grown in confidence, to become the lioness he knew she had once been. He continued to watch as she ladled the tea into her bowl. Yes, he was sure that she would continue to mull over his words. It was time for him to write to Minerva. She would be pleased to hear that her cub was almost ready to return home.

_**oooOooo**_

As lunchtime drew closer, her eyes at last took shape. The green wasn't quite as he remembered them, but then again, it had been years since he'd stared at them. He was satisfied with their outline. Her right eyebrow was arched slightly, a perfect depiction of the look she'd give him before they made their way down to the lake to escape their respective House-mates.

He held the paper at arm's length to appraise his work. The effort became too much as his left arm began to tremble and the paper began to shake. It was difficult to draw her after all these years, but then again, it had been hard to draw her when she was alive. Now, thanks to Nagini's venom and the passage of time, the memory of her was fading.

Of course, _he_ had _her_ eyes. The brat who'd nearly cost him his life. Severus had been eternally thankful when Poppy had been determined to keep his visitors to a minimum once his recuperation had begun in earnest. Minerva was a welcome visitor. Their weekly chess game was a pleasant distraction from boredom of his restorative solitude. Even Kingsley could be tolerated for a short while, but Severus was not ready for Potter's sycophantic praise. He had done everything that he had set out to do.

Surreptitiously, Severus watched Poppy standing at the foot of his bed. She had known him since he was a scrawny eleven-year-old. Now, he was almost forty and still scrawny despite her attempts to encourage weight gain. During the early phase of his recuperation, Severus had overheard a whispered conversation Poppy and Minerva had shared. He'd been surprised when Poppy had declared her desire to resurrect both Voldemort and Dumbledore so that she could dispatch them both beyond the veil once more for what they had done to Severus, whom she saw as a son.

"Time for your potions, Severus," Poppy said.

Severus growled as he turned the sketch over. It wouldn't do for Poppy to see his latest piece of work. With concentrated effort, he focused on taking the first potion from Poppy. Tugging at the small cork stopper, he knocked the vial straight back, his lips twisting into a sneer as the bitter liquid hit the back of his throat. He then swallowed the contents of the red bottle, followed quickly by the black, under the ever-watchful gaze of the Matron.

"I'm running low on pain relief potion. Will you be able to brew this afternoon?" Poppy asked calmly.

"How much do you have left?"

"Twenty, although the first Quidditch match of the season will take place this weekend."

Severus turned to face the older witch, his lips twitching with barely controlled anger. He knew that she would watch him like a hawk as he brewed, fearful that he would once more pass out. Damn Voldemort, damn his familiar and damn the venom that still wreaked havoc within him.

"Well, you've answered you own question, woman. I shall indeed be brewing this afternoon."

Poppy bowed her head slightly, leaning closer towards Severus.

"You know, I think your art is wonderful. She would have been impressed with your latest attempt. But you don't owe her anything now, Severus. You've discharged your debt to James and completed the task you set yourself. You're free to move on. Leave Lily where she belongs, in your childhood."

"Poppy," Severus growled as he moved the drawing out of her reach, "I will draw whatever and whomever I see fit. I will brew your potions for you after lunch."

Poppy turned to leave.

"I only tell you the truth, Severus. It is time for you to embrace your second chance at life and move forward."

"I would relish the challenge, Poppy, but you insist on keeping me here."

_**oooOooo**_

Poppy left Severus to complete his morning rituals; the man had long since informed her that he no longer desired nor required her assistance. With a heavy heart she returned to her office, safe in the knowledge that if Severus should fall or, Merlin forbid, pass out, the Hospital Wing's wards would inform her.

As she entered her office, she closed the door behind her until it was only slightly ajar. With a heavy sigh, Poppy practically flopped into her favourite chair. She knew that Severus was frustrated by the restrictions that she placed on his movement and by the fact that she watched him like a hawk whenever he brewed. However, it was, she convinced herself, in his best interests that she was overly protective of him.

Looking at the notes on her desk, Poppy scribbled some further comments in the margins before closing them. Healer Smethwyk would no doubt be visiting later in the week for a progress report on the sole remaining hospitalised victim of the last battle against the Dark Lord.

Poppy Summoned her mug of coffee and cast a quick warming charm on the luke-warm liquid within. She leaned across and opened the second drawer down on her desk and retrieved a packet of Muggle biscuits. As she sipped the strong coffee, she recalled the events of the morning after the Battle of Hogwarts.

"_Minerva, have you seen Severus?" Poppy asked, worry clearly visible in her eyes._

"_I'm afraid I haven't seen him since he flew out the window, Poppy."_

_As Poppy turned to leave the Hall, her eyes were drawn to a shimmering, silver otter. She made her way across to the otter and crouched to listen to its message._

"_Come quickly! Professor Snape is barely alive. We're in the Shrieking Shack. I need help," Hermione Granger's voice stated as the otter twisted and twirled._

"_Minerva, Smethwyk, he's in the shack... quickly, Miss Granger says he's barely alive!"_

_Lifting her skirt, and with a speed that belied the tiredness which was making her bones ache, Poppy sprinted from the Hall._

_**oooOooo**_

_As they'd approached the Whomping Willow, Minerva and Poppy were surprised to find the Willow in a subdued state. Poppy mentally noted that it might be prudent to ask Pomona to come and tend the Willow later. Slowly, she, Minerva and Smethwyk made their way through the opening below the Willow. Once inside, Poppy whispered Lumos, and the trio made their way through the winding passages to the Shrieking Shack._

"_Hermione," Poppy called out, "where are you? Is Severus still breathing?"_

_Poppy smiled as the playful otter Patronus appeared once more, encouraging them to follow. As they entered the shabby room, Poppy gasped before rushing to settle beside Hermione._

"_What have you used so far?" she asked the young woman as she began to cast complex diagnostic spells._

"_I've given him what I had left of my Dittany and then... I Summoned a couple of bottles from your store room."_

"_What else have you used? Have you administered Blood Replenisher yet? What about Phoenix tears?"_

Poppy's reverie was disturbed by the brogue of the headmistress as she entered her office.

"Poppy, how is Severus? I can only hold the Ministry back for so long before Severus becomes victim to this incomprehensible law."

_**oooOooo**_

Hermione stepped from the shelter of the cabin into the early morning light. The sky still had a hint of sunrise clinging to the mountain peaks. Hermione took a deep breath of air; this was something she would miss when she returned home, the cleansing sharpness of the early morning air.

Taking a couple of steps away from the cabin, she cupped the clay bowl in her hands to warm them. Lifting the bowl to her lips, she took a sip. She had grown accustomed to the bitter taste of the tea since arriving in Tibet. She took another sip from her bowl. Mindful of Master Jin's teaching, she stopped before drinking the last drop. Turning, she returned to the warmth of the cabin.

Setting her bowl down on the table-top, she added a generous dollop of Tsampa from the jar on the table. Absentmindedly, she mixed the tea and roasted barley flour together with her forefinger until it formed a dough ball that she then began to knead. She didn't see that Master Jin was watching her.

"Lioness, you seem distracted this morning; you're not paying attention to your Tsampa." Looking up, Hermione gave a sweet smile.

"I'm sorry, Master Jin. I was thinking about what you said last night. You're right. It is almost time for me to return home."

Coming up to stand behind her, Master Jin placed a tanned hand on her shoulder.

"You have the skills with which to move forward, lioness. Why, when you arrived here you were unable to concentrate on turning the bowl whilst you mixed the Tsampa without dropping everything. Now look at you. You can knead the dough whilst turning the bowl round and round without dropping it. You have learnt to control your manipulation of the bowl well. Use this skill when you are brewing and you will go far.

"I think that we shall not brew today, as such. You can replenish the tea, lioness, whilst I go and harvest some much needed supplies. You know where everything is. I shall return before nightfall."

Master Jin grabbed his satchel from the peg beside the doorframe and set about his self-appointed task.

_**oooOooo**_

Hermione settled down beside the small fire outside the cabin to begin preparing the buttered tea. It would take her most of the day to get the brew right. She was sure that her Master had set her the task in order that she could continue to reflect on what he had said to her the previous day.

The pan that had been placed on the fire was already beginning to boil. Placing her hand into the hessian sack beside her, Hermione lifted out a generous handful of the dark tealeaves. She watched the water roil as she slowly added the leaves.

When she was preparing her first batch of tea, she had recoiled at the colour of the liquid and had questioned the length of time that Master Jin instructed her to boil the mixture. He had reassured her that the tea needed to be boiled for over half a day.

As Hermione let the tea stew over the heat she made a mental list of the things she was most eager to find out about wizarding Britain: Had Severus survived her attempt to heal his wounds? Was Minerva now Headmistress of the School? Would she find someone to mentor her for the rest of her training, both as a Healer and as a Potioneer? Would she have to choose one over the other? Was she prepared to face her friends and explain her sudden disappearance? She knew that these and more questions would be waiting for her when she returned to Britain.

**

* * *

****Tsampa: **is a Tibetan stable foodstuff, particularly prominent in the central part of the country. It is made from roasted flour, usually barley but sometimes wheat, which is mixed with butter tea. You leave a little buttered tea in the bottom of your bowl and put a big dollop of _Tsampa_ on top of it. You stir gently with the forefinger, and then knead with the hand, meanwhile twisting your bowl round and round until you finish up with a large dumpling-like object.

**Buttered Tea: **Regional hot drink made from tea leaves, yak's butter and salt. To make the best butter-tea, the tea is first boiled for half a day, till it gets dark brown. After being skimmed, it is shaken several times in the cylinder with some fresh yak butter and salt.

Once again, many thanks to my wonderful team of alpha, beta, omega readers who truly rock my writing world without them this story would not have seen the light of day.

Oh, and just in case you were wondering, I do not own even a tenth of Potterverse; it all belongs to JK Rowling and others too numerous to mention. I make my money as a Muggle Chemist :D


	3. Chapter Two

**Chapter Two**

Poppy bade the headmistress to sit in the chair opposite her. Staring at the notes before her, she considered whether to let Minerva read the progress report. After a short battle with her conscience, she decided it was best just to give the headmistress a short account of her patient's recovery.

"As you know, Severus is physically as well as can be expected. His neck is healed, his voice, though rougher than it was, is intact. I am more concerned by these temporary and unpredictable blackouts. If there was a predictable pattern, I would be more inclined to release him, but, as far as I can ascertain, there is no rhyme or reason for them. I've tried every diagnostic spell I know. Smethwyk has observed him and can ascertain no cause. I know he sees my continued determination to keep him here as yet another ploy to manipulate and control him... but I worry about him. He has no family to go to, all he has is Spinners End and from all accounts, the place is a run-down wreck of a home.

"If only there was someone willing to take over my role. I have asked him whether he thinks Malfoy would agree to my proposition, but he assumes that he is the last person Lucius would wish to share his home with, especially after his less than amicable split from Narcissa, following his short incarceration in Azkaban."

"I may know of someone who could take care of Severus, but if the plan is to succeed, I will need to tread carefully on fragile egg shells."

"Who?" Poppy questioned, her spirits rising at the thought that Severus could soon be away from the Hospital Wing.

"I have received word that Miss Granger is almost ready to return home. I know that she is no replacement for Lily, but she has the same fire that burned within Lily. Tell me honestly, Poppy, do you think Severus is ready to hear about the Marriage Law?"

Wearily, Poppy ran the palm of her right hand across her forehead.

"There will never be a good time to inform Severus of the law; however, if you were to broach the subject during one of your chess matches..."

"Thank you, Poppy. I will leave you to your work, although you look like you could do with some peace and quiet."

"Minerva, has anyone petitioned for Severus?"

"Kingsley will not say. However, I have heard on the grapevine that Millicent Bulstrode and Sybil Trelawney have spoken of their desire to petition for him."

Poppy visibly shuddered as Minerva spoke.

**oooOooo**

It had been a long time since Severus Snape had taken a good look at himself in a mirror. He'd never really cared much for the face that stared back at him – who would want to spend time staring at pale skin, a large, hooked nose and uneven yellow teeth? He certainly had no need.

When he was a child, his father had teased him about the strong resemblance to his mother. When he had finally arrived at Hogwarts, Potter and company repeatedly reminded him about his unfortunate appearance. No, he was not a regal peacock who wasted time preening his feathers.

His appearance had not improved over the years, and now he not only had his previous defects to contend with, but he also had the angry scar on his neck which reminded him daily of how close he'd come to dying. Shortly after waking, he'd pondered which the worse death was: death by drapery, like his old nemesis, Black, or death by House emblem? He was sure that Potter and Black would have found the fact that he'd been killed by a snake highly amusing.

Severus understood that Poppy and Smethwyk had attempted to lessen the scarring, but magic could only go so far. The reminder of that fateful night would be with him until he did eventually pass through the veil. Shortly after Poppy had agreed that he could take care of his daily ablutions, Severus had stopped looking into mirrors.

He took his time changing from his night clothes, preferring not to use magic to fasten the multitude of tiny buttons that festooned his multiple layers of clothing. He supposed that there was little need for the multiple defences now, but he was comforted by their presence.

"You're a fool, Snape," he murmured. "The cloth offers no real protection."

Turning, Severus walked across the Infirmary towards the small laboratory. As he approached Poppy's office, he smirked when he noted that her door was slightly ajar. Drawing closer, he could hear two raised voices.

"It's barbaric. I can't believe that Kingsley yielded to Bosworth and his cohorts!" an indignant voice insisted.

"At least he managed to temper the law slightly. Bosworth and his associates will not be able to petition for Miss Granger and her friends if they choose to continue their studies. If everything goes according to plan, Severus' exemption will remain in place, too."

"I don't like your chances."

"Nonsense! Severus is a practical man; he will see the sense in my proposal."

Severus's honed reflexes jumped into action when he heard a chair scrape across the flagstone floor. With a speed that defied his lingering injuries, he disappeared behind the heavy oak door of his laboratory. Safely ensconced in his haven, Severus leaned back against the door. His breathing became erratic and his pulse began to race. Plans were afoot, plans he wasn't aware of yet, plans which were going to have a direct impact upon him.

What was Minerva plotting?

What was the barbaric law they'd been discussing?

What did Bosworth have planned for Miss Granger, and why did that bother him so much?

Severus felt dizzy. His mind began to spin, and he felt his temperature rise. He struggled to focus, lunging for the chair that Minerva had insisted upon providing for him. He managed to slump into it just before his world turned black.

**oooOooo**

The high-pitched alarm startled Minerva. She started as Poppy jumped into action, grasping her bag as she shot up from her seat. Poppy scanned the area immediately outside her office before flourishing her wand and muttering the emHominum Revelio/em spell.

Poppy watched as the spell revealed Severus's location. Minerva stood in the doorway of Poppy's office watching the Matron closely. She followed Poppy into the neighbouring small laboratory. She gasped when she noticed Severus slumped in the chair. Poppy rushed to his side, wand out, casting one diagnostic spell after another.

"Minerva, go back to my office and summon Smethwyk from St. Mungo's. He needs to see this."

Half running, half stumbling, Minerva hurried back to the office. Grabbing a handful of powder from the pot beside the fireplace, she threw it into the Floo and shouted her request to speak with Healer Smethwyk.

No sooner had Minerva started the call than a short, bald, middle-aged wizard appeared before her. Minerva stumbled back and collided with Poppy's desk.

"How can I help?" he asked.

"Madam Pomfrey requires your assistance. Severus Snape has collapsed, and she has asked me to summon you."

"Well, you best step aside; it must be bad if Poppy's summoning me."

Minerva stepped back from the Floo just in time as Smethwyk barrelled through. Dusting himself off, he turned to face Minerva.

"Well, come on, let's not dilly dally. We mustn't keep Poppy waiting."

**oooOooo**

As they entered the room, Healer Smethwyk let out a long, low whistle.

"Well, damn me, Poppy, you were right. Step aside and let me assess the situation – he's still breathing, and it would appear his pulse rate is near normal. When was the last time you two...? Oh, never mind, and just let me work."

Poppy and Minerva retreated, watching as Smethwyk wielded his wand, muttering and humming as he wrapped Severus's body in a variety of different coloured light with each diagnostic spell.

"All seems to be as it should, although his heart rate is slightly elevated. Have you any idea what prompted this?" Smethwyk asked.

"None whatsoever, although..." Poppy paused for a moment, taking care with her choice of words. "When I gave him his potions earlier, he was busy sketching Lily Evans. Minerva and I were in my office just before the alarm sounded, discussing the Marriage Law..."

"Mmm, it would seem that our patient here has experienced a panic attack – not unheard of, but rather rare with a wizard of his calibre. I wonder if he overheard your discussion."

The trio's attention was drawn to the battered chair in which Severus still slumped by a low groan. Looking over, they watched as Severus adjusted himself in the armchair, rubbing first his neck and then his face with his right hand.

"Welcome back, Snape. You gave us all quite a shock," Smethwyk said, approaching the chair.

"Bloody fucking hell! What the hell are you doing here?" Severus glared at Smethwyk.

"As I was saying, you gave us quite a shock, passing out like that. Why aren't you using the cane I gave you?"

"I don't need your damned cane, I don't need to be watched like a hawk, and I sure as fucking hell don't need you three dunderheads crowding my space."

"Severus Snape," Minerva admonished as she stood before the younger man. "There is no need to be so rude. You scared the living daylights out of us. It is apparent that you do need to be watched, my boy."

"I couldn't give a Jarvey's arse what you think, Minerva. I am not, as you put it, your boy. If you'd only let me..."

"Severus," Poppy uttered, taking his hand in her own. "You must understand. If we don't get to the bottom of this, you won't be able to live on your own. I can't, in all good conscience, let you leave, knowing that you might black out and Furies forbid, fall and crack your head open. Smethwyk and I didn't fight tooth and nail to stabilise your vital signs on that Merlin-forbidden night for you to throw it back at us now."

"Why on earth not?" Severus snatched his hand away from Poppy's. "I'm sure some would celebrate my demise: no doubt some would gleefully dance on my grave. After all, there are some that still bay for my blood. However, as you can see, I'm all right now. I have potions to brew; no doubt you three wish to pour over what you've just witnessed. Your bloody annoying wards will alert you should I _succumb_ to my weakness again," he snarled.

**oooOooo**

Hermione stepped out into the early evening, shivering as the cool wind kissed her exposed skin. The mountain peaks stood out against the russet, purple and burnt orange sunset. As she watched the final sliver of the sun sink below the horizon, she reflected that it would be shining brightly above Hogwarts.

The ever-present bowl of buttered tea warmed her hands as she watched birds coming in to roost for the night: the air around her was alive with the sound of both birds and animals. She would miss the peace and tranquillity that she had found here in Tibet, but Master Jin was right. He had instilled her with confidence and techniques to cope with unsettling situations. She now understood why her mother had relished her weekly Tuesday night Yoga classes. Gentle Tai Chi had done wonders for Hermione's battered soul.

As she continued to ponder, Master Jin slipped out of the cabin to watch his student. He had sent word to McGonagall earlier in the day that Hermione was almost ready to return home: all he had to do now was watch and wait for the right time to send her.

**oooOooo**

The unseasonably warm October evening sun cast shadows on the floor of the small laboratory. Severus was relieved to be alone again in his sanctuary. He stood over the cauldron, watching the liquid simmer. It never failed to amaze him how peaceful he felt when brewing; it was as if he ascended to some transcendental plane.

With a lazy flick of his wand, he quenched the flames of the fire beneath the cauldron and began to bottle the pearlescent potion into the waiting vials. Casting his eyes towards the small clock on the wall, Severus cursed. It was past time for him to be meeting with Minerva for their weekly chess game. He set the cauldron aside to cool, knowing full well that one of the school's house-elves would more than likely begin to clean it before he returned to the laboratory the following morning. With a satisfying twirl of his robes, Severus exited his haven and headed for the Floo. There was no need to traipse through the halls, garnering the invasive stares of the portraits, as he made his way to Minerva's office.

**oooOooo**

Minerva was once more seated within her favoured chair, stirring her cup of tea. Master Jin's letter had arrived moments earlier. As she read the letter, she felt more optimistic about the plan. If Master Jin was right, if Hermione was almost ready to return home, she needed to broach the idea that Severus should continue Hermione's training tonight.

With a puff of soot, Severus unceremoniously announced his presence. Dusting himself down, he made his way across the room to where the headmistress was seated. Before her sat the chess board, the white pieces facing her; the black pieces, naturally, were on his side.

"Did we finish last week's game? I could have sworn you were at my mercy," Severus stated as he took the seat opposite her.

"Nonsense, Severus. I beat you fair and square. Now, enough idle chit-chat; I believe it's my turn to start."

Severus rolled his eyes as Minerva opened by moving her Queen's pawn forward two spaces.

**oooOooo**

For the first time in months, Hermione had a fitful night's sleep. Every time she closed her eyes she saw the broken body of her former professor lying on the ground before her as she fought to save him. Her blood-soaked clothing felt cold against her skin, and her fingers trembled as she administered potion after potion.

She awoke to find herself tangled in the blanket and sheets: her skin feel cold and clammy from sweat. Groaning, she carefully untangled herself before rising. Crossing the room mechanically, Hermione yawned as she transferred some of the tea she'd brewed the previous day from the storage flask into the pan for heating. Her mind spun with memories from her fitful slumber.

"It is time, lioness, to go home," Master Jim said as he sat down opposite.

"How?" Hermione asked sleepily.

Master Jin laughed softly. "Oh, lioness, you are a truly brilliant witch but sometimes... sometimes you fail to comprehend the simplest of challenges. You can Apparate from here to Lhasa. I think it would be best for you to use the point we used for our last visit. Once there, you can catch a Portkey from the Ministry here to the Ministry in Alexandria. It will probably be best for you to rest for an hour or so in there before taking another Portkey to London, and then, it's up to you."

Hermione looked at her Master, a smile lifting one side of her mouth slightly.

"How long will it take to get to London? What time would it be when I got there? How do I arrange the Portkey...?"

"Slowly, lioness. Firstly, you need to pack. Secondly, I will come with you to arrange your Portkeys if you so desire. Thirdly, drink," Master Jin stated calmly, nodding at her bowl of tea.

Hermione picked up her bowl and turned to go outside.

"I'll just take one more look before packing. I'm going to miss you, Master Jin."

"Nonsense, lioness. You will find another to take my place. One who is just as exacting as I have been. I will be following your progress closely. You don't get rid of me that easily. Now, go, collect you thoughts and prepare yourself for your journey home."

**oooOooo**

Severus smirked as he considered his own opening move. Minerva rarely deviated from her tried and tested opening, and on the rare occasions that she allowed him to be white, he'd always mixed up his opening moves. His long, slender fingers rasped against the stubble on his chin. Finally, he selected a pawn and moved it one space forward.

Minerva frowned; with a sigh, she realised that Severus was not going to concede defeat easily tonight. Settling back into her chair, she pondered her next move.

"What's the matter, Minerva, afraid I'm going to beat you?"

"On the contrary, Severus, I have a strong desire to beat you tonight."

Severus snorted. "Well, I look forward to it, Headmistress. There's always a first time, I suppose."

Minerva quickly moved her piece before rising.

"Whisky? Or would you prefer something more calming?"

"Whisky will be fine, although I do hope that you will not be regaling Poppy with details of your attempt to get me inebriated. The poor woman will think you wish to have your wicked way with me," Severus replied, his left eyebrow rising as he spoke.

Minerva blushed momentarily, thankful that her back was to Severus. The man was almost young enough to be her grandson.

"You are the wicked one," she replied softly as she offered Severus a glass of whisky. "Such thoughts are preposterous. You're much too young for me."

* * *

As always, many thanks go to my alpha, beta and omega team without whom this simply wouldn't happen.

Just a reminder; I don't own any of the Potterverse and my only reward is the reviews you leave.


	4. Chapter Three

**Chapter Three**

Hermione stood listening as the area around the small wooden cabin awakened to greet the new dawn. By the evening, she would be home. She was eager to see Minerva and catch up on recent events, but, apprehension twisted in her belly. How would her one-time mentor greet her? Master Jin had confessed that he had been in touch with the headmistress and had assured Hermione that she would be welcome to visit Hogwarts.

As she stood, watching the sunrise one final time over the mountains that encircled the plateau, she pondered what her dreams of the previous night meant. They'd all had a beginning on that fateful night, almost two years ago. Was she scared of facing Snape?

Hermione jumped as Master Jin came to stand beside her.

"You are strong, lioness, and he will be a good teacher. Yes, he is head-strong and wilful, just like you. Do not fear him, but use what I have taught you, and stay centred, even when he rants and rages at you. By standing strong, you will reveal your inner strength, and given time, he will acknowledge your true potential. His bark is far worse than his bite."

"I... who?"

"You will know, lioness. That is all I am prepared to say. Remember, he that is afraid to shake the dice will never throw a six."

"Thank you, Master Jin. I may not always understand what you are trying to tell me, but I get there in the end."

"And you will get there in the end, lioness. You have a good heart and a strong sense of what is right and what is dutiful. As I have said on many an occasion, you will go far. Now, come, it is almost time for us to begin your next adventure. I think that even with a rest in Alexandria, you will be home before the end of this day."

Hermione took the arm Master Jin offered and walked into the hut with him. It didn't take long for her to pack her belongings; she hadn't brought much with her from Australia. With one last look around the tiny cabin, Hermione was ready to return home to England.

**oooOooo**

Despite the early hour, Lhasa was already bustling. The soft pop that announced the arrival of Hermione and Master Jin went unnoticed by the people who were going about their daily business. Hermione felt her tutor grab her wrist and pull her towards the grounds that surrounded Norbulingka.

"Lioness, if you are to make it in time for a Portkey to Alexandria, we must be at the Ministry before nine. We'll take a short cut through the palace grounds."

Hermione followed Master Jin through the park, nearly overwhelmed by the thought that she was going home after almost two years away.

"Hermione, come, lioness. Time is slipping."

Hermione fell into step beside her mentor. The aromas of the city saturated her senses. Beside the park, stall holders were readying their wares of fresh vegetables and fruit. Master Jin guided her, turning left and leading her down a small back street. They stopped before a deserted shop front, where he removed his wand and tapped an intricate pattern beside the boarded door. Slowly, the door opened.

"After you," he said. "Take care of the step down. The lanterns will light as you walk along the corridor."

**oooOooo**

Severus watched Minerva closely. He observed that the headmistress was preoccupied by something other than their weekly chess game. As she pondered her next move, he smiled to himself. She took several sips from her tumbler of Ogden's, almost as though she was attempting to bolster her legendary Gryffindor courage before raising a difficult topic.

"You seem a little lost in thought this evening, Minerva. Is something bothering you?"

"You're not as green as you are cabbage looking, are you? I do have something I need to discuss with you. I don't know what Poppy and Kingsley have been telling you. Are you aware of any of the new laws that have been passed by the Ministry?"

Severus took a deep breath.

"Poppy has limited my exposure to the outside world; she's too concerned that I will have another turn if there is something less than favourable about me in the rags that pass for newspapers. As if I am bothered by what others think of me. I did overhear you two discussing a barbaric law earlier today, and before you lecture me about eavesdropping at doorways again, it wasn't hard to miss your conversation when Poppy was screeching like a banshee."

Minerva took another thoughtful sip from her Firewhisky.

**oooOooo**

Hermione blinked as she moved from early morning sunlight to the dim space illuminated by candles. The floor sloped gently downwards, drawing her towards a soft, golden glow at the end of what appeared to be a short corridor. As she grew accustomed to her surroundings, she reached out, allowing her right hand to brush against the cool wall.

The end of the corridor turned slightly to the left, opening out into a hall roughly the same size as the front entrance of Hogwarts. Although the scale of the Atrium was nothing compared to the Ministry in London, it was very similar in appearance. Like the Ministry in London, the ceiling was painted a delicate peacock blue, but unlike London, there were no golden symbols randomly moving over it. Instead, a multitude of candles hovered just below the ceiling reminding Hermione of the Great Hall at Hogwarts. The reminders of home soothed her warring emotions. To the left, she noticed that the flagstone floor took on a golden hue where the candlelight reflected off a small dragon fountain; the trickle that sprang from the dragon's mouth fell into the pool of water beneath.

Master Jin reached out to Hermione. "Follow me, lioness," he said.

They joined a small group of witches and wizards making their way along the hall. Ministry workers flanked them on both sides, some of whom were reading their copy of the morning paper as they walked; others carried piles of parchments. As they passed the fountain, Hermione's eye was caught by the reflected light from the silver Sickles and bronze Knuts in the bottom; she had been comforted when she had arrived in Tibet to find that the currency was the same throughout the wizarding world. She noticed a small sign:

_ALL PROCEEDS FROM THE MAGICAL FOUNTAIN WILL BE DONATED TO THE LOCAL ORPHANAGE RUN BY OUR MAGICAL BRETHEREN OF THE BUDDIST FAITH._

Dipping her hand into her jeans pocket, Hermione withdrew a couple of Sickles and tossed them in as they passed.

"We need to head for the welcome desk over there, lioness," Master Jin said, and they stepped out of the group.

"Welcome, how may I be of assistance to you this fine morning?" asked the witch behind the desk.

"We're here to catch a Portkey to Alexandria. Rather, Miss Granger here requires a Portkey to Alexandria."

The witch smiled at Hermione.

"We've heard all about your exploits, Miss Granger. I trust you have enjoyed your time in Tibet. The Portkeys for Alexandria leave in thirty minutes. If you carry on along the corridor to your right, the Department of Magical Transportation is the fourth door down. You need to speak with Oralia; she will go through the paperwork with you."

"Thank you," Hermione said, bowing her head slightly before turning to head in the direction the witch had indicated. Hermione didn't see the small smile that Master Jin gave her as she led the way.

**oooOooo**

"Much has changed," Minerva said as she stared into the fire that was almost embers. "While you were in a coma, Kingsley was quickly named as Acting Minister of Magic. It took six months for the elections to be organised. And Kingsley was unanimously voted in as Minister. However, it was never going to be easy for him; in fact, there were and still are some pure-blood members of the Wizengamot who are determined to undermine his authority.

"Recently, pressure has been put on Kingsley to do something about the declining birth-rate, more specifically, the declining magical birth-rate. Bosworth has produced some data which has the Wizengamot on their feet calling for Kingsley to act. The proposal that Bosworth drew up resulted in the Marriage Law. We – that is, Kingsley, with the help of the Order – have diluted the law somewhat, by adding a caveat that any witch or wizard wishing to pursue further education or training after completing their formal education would be exempt from the law for the duration of their training."

Severus considered the headmistress's words carefully, taking several small sips from his whisky.

"How does the law affect the current students? Earlier, when you were talking with Poppy, she mentioned Miss Granger – is she exempt?"

"As it stands, as soon as our students reach the age of majority, they are placed on the Magical Register of eligible candidates for marriage. They have to register whether they intend to continue their education or whether they are seeking to make a match. Not everyone goes on the list, of course; the law isn't that draconian. If they already have a potential partner, they register the fact and they do not need to go on the list. However, should that relationship end, then they need to update their status on the Ministry records.

"To date, Miss Granger has been exempt, since she has not been resident here. During the summer before her seventh year, Miss Granger took her parents to Australia and placed a memory charm upon them so that they had no memory of her. Unfortunately, the charm had some effects that she did not anticipate."

Severus gave a derisive snort.

"When she survived the bloodshed, she immediately travelled to Australia. However, her parents were either unwilling to return, or she couldn't find them. I don't know which – she hasn't been in touch since she left. We heard nothing of her for six months, and then a letter came out of the blue from a Potions master in Tibet. Master Jin confirmed that Hermione was with him and was learning about the flora and fauna and how they can be utilised both from the perspective of a Healer and a Potioneer.

"Master Jin has sent word today that Miss Granger is heading home. She is due to arrive early tomorrow morning. As soon as the Ministry is aware that she is home she will become subject to the law..."

Severus shot up from his seat.

"No! Minerva, I can tell where this conversation is heading. I won't fucking do it; I won't be a pawn in some fucking awful great master plan again. I've had enough. I've laid my life on the line, paid my dues. I know Bosworth is a walking advertisement for the return of the blasted Dementors, but you can't make me marry your precious Gryffindor know-it-all!"

**oooOooo**

Hermione smiled at the young witch behind the desk in the Department of Magical Transportation.

"Good morning, my name is Hermione Granger, and this is my mentor, Master Jin," Hermione said. "I was informed by the Welcome Witch that I needed to talk to Oralia."

A middle-aged witch rose from behind the receptionist and smiled at Hermione. Her brown hair was pulled back tightly at the nape of her neck, falling to just above her waist. She wore traditional European wizarding robes.

"I'm Oralia," she said, offering her hand to Hermione. "How may I be of assistance to you today, Miss Granger?"

"I wish to acquire a Portkey that will take me home to England."

"Well, you've certainly come to the right place. You just need to fill out these forms," Oralia said as she placed the forms in front of Hermione. "They will magically fill out in triplicate, one copy to stay here, one to go to your home Ministry and one which you need to carry with you. It's very important that you keep your copy with you. The Ministry in London are still twitchy about the wholesale use of Portkeys as a form of transportation."

Hermione took the paperwork and went to join Master Jin at a small table. Once seated, she searched in her beaded bag for something to complete the forms.

"Try this, lioness," Master Jin said an amused look on his face as he handed a small quill to Hermione.

**oooOooo**

"Severus," Minerva sighed as she watched Severus prowl in front of the fire. "Severus, sit! I didn't mention anything about marriage..."

"No, you didn't. But, I can read your mind, Minerva; that's what you're hoping for. That way, Miss Granger is protected from the pond life, and I'm out of your hair. I'm sure Miss Granger will love the thought of being paired with an ex-Death Eater who can't get a hard-on and who blacks out from trivial panic attacks."

Minerva rose from her chair, stepping aside the small coffee table and stopping directly in front of Severus.

"Now you listen to me, Severus Snape. You are a wretched man most of the time; Merlin knows why I put up with you and your whiney, self-absorbed, pig-headed ways. I don't for one moment expect you to drop down on one knee and declare undying love to Miss Granger – she's too young for you. If you'd just let me finish, I was going to suggest that you offer her the opportunity to complete her training. Not only would that defer her transfer to the eligible list, but it would also keep your sorry arse off it, too. Or, maybe you really want to wind up shackled to dear Sybil or one of emyour/em former students." Minerva halted her tirade for a moment. "Kingsley did mention that Miss Bulstrode has yet again taken up further training to stave off her transfer. I understand that she is hoping that you will soon be transferred to the eligible bastard list."

Severus paled.

"You wouldn't."

"Don't push me, Severus. All it would take is a little note to the right department, and you'd be inundated with proposals."

"Your Animagus form is wrong, Minerva. You're no timid tabby. No, you're a fire-breathing, tail thrashing, harridan of a Hebridean Black dragon. Albus should have sent you in to scare the lacy pants off the Dark Lord on your own: there was no need for Potter."

**oooOooo**

Hermione took the quill from Master Jin and gave him a weak smile. The lone butterfly which had taken up residency in her stomach had been joined by at least five more.

"It is all right to feel apprehension, lioness. It shows that you are human and not lost to the rumour and fame that has surrounded you. You have inner strength; you can handle any situation that arises."

"Thank you," Hermione replied.

She made short work of answering the questions on the forms and after another reassuring smile from her mentor, she handed them in. Oralia looked them over, her face giving nothing away. She looked up at Hermione and smiled.

"Everything looks fine to me. I trust that you have learnt much whilst you've been here. Master Jin is one of our most eminent Potioneers." She leaned towards Hermione, lowering her voice to a mere whisper. "It's said that he has trained many a budding Potioneer. I've not always lived here in Tibet. News of your fight against the Dark Lord has become common knowledge worldwide, and some say that your mentor trained the wizard who turned from the Dark to the Light during the War against You-Know-Who. But, you're not here to hear idle gossip." Oralia straightened up and walked away from the desk. "Do you have something on your person that I can modify into a Portkey, or would you prefer a Ministry Approved device which is ready to go? I'm sure your Master has informed you that it is better to take a break when making such a long journey. I'd advise a stop in Alexandria. You will need to get the Portkey tuned for London anyway when you arrive in Alexandria. All you need to do is give them your paperwork and they will do the rest."

"Master Jin did suggest that breaking the trip up would be better. I'd rather have a Ministry Approved Portkey."

"Very well, here you are, Miss Granger. If you register your arrival in Alexandria immediately, it will take but a matter of moments for them to tune the Portkey for your next journey. It's best to take at least an hour's break if this is your first time using a long distance Portkey. May I suggest that you take in the Magical Wizarding Library? It's within a stone's throw of the Ministry. Be warned, the effects of the travel can be somewhat disconcerting. Take as long as you need. It's not unusual for novices to stumble or fall when they arrive at their destination. It's all in the preparation, you see, the more you use them, the more aware you are of how it feels as you approach you destination."

"I've only used a Portkey once before, and that was some years ago. We weren't entirely aware of the fact that we were using it."

"Oh, my, Miss Granger; you need to go. Clearance for Alexandria is in ten minutes. You need to turn right when you exit here and continue down the corridor until you arrive in a small courtyard. You're the only timetabled departure for Alexandria, so you don't need to worry too much. Just mutter your destination, and before you know it, you'll be heading home. I hope you have a good trip."

Hermione thanked Oralia for her assistance. Fastening the silver necklace around her neck she turned to face Master Jin.

"It's time," she whispered as she took his proffered arm.

"It is indeed. You are ready to face whatever waits for you when you get home, lioness."

As the pair walked down the corridor in a mutual silence, emotions and questions whirled inside Hermione. Had Master Jin really taught Severus Snape? How was the professor? Had he roused from his coma? Had he returned to teaching? Would he agree to see her when she got home?

As she took the first step from the dimly lit Ministry corridor into the bright morning sunshine which bathed the small courtyard, Hermione stumbled slightly. She turned to face her mentor, giving him a weak smile before turning and descending the remaining steps.

Master Jin was soon by her side, placing a reassuring hand at her elbow.

"Before you go, lioness, I have one last piece of advice to give you. You have a long road to travel; do not believe that you will reach your destination without leaving the shore."

"I know, Master Jin. To move forward I have to embrace what has happened in my past. Without acknowledging what has happened, I cannot truly move forward."

"Exactly. Embrace what you find when you get home. A clever person turns great troubles into little ones, and little ones into none at all," Master Jin replied.

"Master Jin, I have one last question for you. Did you train Professor Snape? Oralia seemed to think that you had a hand in his training."

"Potioneer Snape did spend some time in Tibet, and he did spend some time with me. Remember, lioness, his bark is far worse than his bite."

As a clock began to strike nine, Master Jin stepped away from Hermione. Hermione bowed to her mentor as she placed her right hand onto the small pendant of the necklace. It happened immediately: Hermione felt a strong tug in the region of her navel. Her feet left the ground, and all of a sudden, she felt as though she was speeding forwards in a howl of wind and swirl of colour; her fingers were wrapped around the pendant as though it was pulling her magnetically onwards and then –

Her feet touched down on solid ground. She stumbled as she regained control of her body. She blinked as the dust settled around her. As her vision cleared, she realised that she was no longer in the small courtyard of the Tibetan Ministry; she now stood in the middle of an elaborate courtyard surrounded by tall, sandstone pillars.

* * *

Again, many thanks to my supporters who enabled, read and polished this chapter :D


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